


Ghosting

by Artistic_Gamer



Series: Izuku haunts class 1-A [9]
Category: BnHA, Boku no Hero Academia, My Hero Academia, mha
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Death Implied/Mentioned, Ghost!Midoriya, Hurt/Comfort, Im early and I have donuts hello, Midoriya haunts 1-A, Midoriya takes Bakugo’s advice, One-Shot, Other, Stay Safe!, but he’s getting better, sad boi is sad, the Most explicit I’ll be with the suicidal themes, the star is here!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-11
Updated: 2020-02-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:15:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22662328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artistic_Gamer/pseuds/Artistic_Gamer
Summary: Izuku ruminates on his experiences haunting U.A, as well as all of the friends he’s made.
Relationships: Midoriya Izuku & Class 1-A
Series: Izuku haunts class 1-A [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1553269
Comments: 93
Kudos: 2615





	Ghosting

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: this will be the most explicit with the suicidal themes, so be careful! I don’t think it’s still bad but just as a precaution
> 
> THE STAR IS FINALLY HERE!!! THE BOI HIMSELF
> 
> so!! originally the plan was to post this on the schedule i’ve been trying to stick to of thursdays, but! today just so happens to be my birthday, and what better way to celebrate it than an early upload and some tears? >:3c so here we are!
> 
> a question for my readers. these stories have been posted individually mostly for my convenience, but would you rather me compile every one-shot and put it into ‘Haunted’ as actual chapters or keep going with the individual thing? the extra coding shouldn’t be too big of an issue, so just let me know what you all think! 
> 
> I hope you all enjoy!

Izuku hovered, beaming, next to his childhood friend, eyes scanning over the worksheet Kacchan was diligently working through. The benefit of being in the classroom during lessons was him actually being able to understand the material, and if Kacchan got stuck on a question - a rare occurrence - he would write notes on his paper asking for Izuku’s opinion. He would ask a question or write down a thought at the top, then write ‘yes’ and ‘no’ on opposite sides of the paper for Izuku to tap on. It was surprisingly efficient, and Kacchan’s neighbors picked up on the method and copied it. If Aizawa noticed, he never commented on it despite his rule.

Izuku didn’t mind floating around the classroom, searching for anyone who needed help. It gave him something to do, and on days where the memory of his death made his body pulse with phantom pain, it served as an excellent distraction as well as an anchor. 

It was hard sometimes, staying in the present, but all of the amazing friends he’d found made things easier. They were a comfort, a kind hand stretched out where none had been before, and Izuku took it and held on with a vice-like grip. Even if it was a little late. 

He murmured in the quiet about anything he could think of, feeling the need to paint over the yawning abyss of silence that stretched indefinitely through the classroom. It pulled him backwards, that emptiness, to nothing but a hollow sadness in his chest and dizziness and a silence so loud it made his ears ring. Talking helped, even if he learned quite a while ago that no one could understand. 

_I want a notebook, I used to write all the time you know,_ he said to an oblivious Shinsou, the teen scribbling down any words in Izuku’s warped speech that he was able to decipher. _I can’t now of course. I wish I could. You have such a cool quirk. All of you do! I’m glad you’re my friend. I’m gonna check on Kiri, good luck_. 

He floated over, talking to him too. Kirishima grinned as goosebumps pricked up his arms, writing down a quick hello before going back to his homework. _I wish you would say hi out loud, it’s so quiet in here!_ Izuku tapped Kirishima’s desk absently. The loud noise was soothing. _I could never focus without talking too, maybe that hasn’t changed. Do you know why I’m here? I’m not supposed to be. I want Katsudon. Have you had it? It’s good Kiri, you should try it sometime._

Aizawa’s voice cut through the never ending silence, and Izuku stopped, politely listening as Aizawa told everyone to pack up. Someone sighed in relief, and chatter - blessed noise - swelled through the air and chained him to the present. Izuku’s whole body buzzed, tingling, and the windows rattled softly with relief. 

The worst days, in Izuku’s opinion, were weekends and classes with All Might. 

Weekends were empty hallways. It was days where there was no distraction. Days where nothing chained him down and he floated higher and higher until his ears rang and he couldn’t breathe and the wind roared all around him. It was dark shadows that hid in corners. The whole building echoed to him, expansive and huge, and he felt so small, so insignificant, a Quirkless, weightless kid in a school he could only pretend to be a part of. 

All Might, however, was the opposite. He was too _much_ , too bright and shining and Izuku felt shame. Shame at having given up, that he had left such a man with so much potential grief and guilt if he ever figured out what happened when All Might was only being realistic, only wanted him safe. 

So Izuku suppressed every habit he had, smothered every noise he made and every response he could give to hide his presence as much as he possibly could. His friends called out to him, worried and concerned, and as much as Izuku felt guilty for ignoring them the fear of All Might figuring out what Izuku had done was infinitely stronger. 

He couldn’t push All Might out of there fast enough. The rest of the class didn’t bother hiding their fondness of him, and the more they used his name in front of his idol the more gut wrenching fear he felt at the thought that the man would remember, a heart he no longer had squeezing in his chest. 

Not to mention the man’s talking about Quirklessness. Izuku couldn’t handle it, no matter how hard he tried to rein himself in. Even just a passing comment coupled with the man’s presence was enough to send him spiraling, anger and sadness too much to bare, form dissolving as he kicked and thrashed through painful memories, re-lived his dreams shattered. 

When he gained control of himself, his friends were pale, shaken. 

Afraid of him. 

Izuku secluded himself to his cold corner, body numb, mangled hands over his ears as he sobbed with a voice no one could hear, the others too busy trying to figure out what had happened to call out to him again. Izuku didn’t talk for the rest of the school day. He drowned in self hatred and old habits, degrading himself, cursing his behaviors, cursing the life he somehow still had before turning around and cursing the very idea of hatred itself before looping back into cursing himself for hating to begin with. He spiraled. Not even Kacchan could ground him while he used his bad habits as his comfort blanket, stuffed with barbed wire instead of cotton.

That was before he realized he wasn’t confined to the classroom, however. Nowadays, when All Might threw open the door in his booming voice, Izuku fled. He left to find Aizawa or Nedzu, not wanting to risk losing himself again. 

He never wanted his friends to be afraid because of him and his behaviors. Never. 

Thankfully, the little machine - they called it an EMF - worked wonders for communicating, no matter how glitchy it was. The class would sit in a loose circle and Izuku would hover close to whoever had the EMF at the time, sometimes resting his cheeks in his palms as he listened in on the banter and chatter in between questions. _Do you like Present Mic?_ was eventually decided upon, Izuku patiently waited for them to record, and he spoke in the ensuing silence. 

It felt different this time, this silence. Light, expectant. Crafted with his voice in mind instead of purposely excluding it.

 _Yes! Yes!_ he cheered, floating just above a blue haired teen’s shoulder. His glasses were shiny. _He’s really funny, he looks kind of like a bird with his hair like that, and that’s funny too!_

They warned him they were pausing it, did so, and played it back. It was strange hearing his voice so glitchy and corroded with static, but he wasn’t complaining. As long as they could hear him. 

The students laughed and wheezed at his statement, and Izuku laughed with them, basking in the warmth and sense of belonging sessions like this always brought. More chatter flooded his ears, and if Izuku had a chair to melt into, he would have as the peaceful noise washed over him. 

_Finally_ Izuku could talk freely with his new friends, and he could explain himself, say what was upsetting him and the cause of it if he ever needed to. He was ecstatic, eternally grateful. 

Granted, he would never burden them with his nitpicks, but the thought in itself was comforting. He could speak up if he couldn’t take it anymore, and that...that was more than what he’d had before. 

The best days were just after school, when Kacchan had the time to sit on the floor next to his corner - Aizawa packing up a couple feet away - and just talk to him about anything and everything. At first, it had been about Kirishima slowly warming up to him, something Izuku had been noticing as well and was very excited about - _Kacchan was making a new friend!_ \- and when the blonde confided he was confused as to _why_ it broke Izuku’s heart. He said the same thing about Ashido, and Sero, and Kaminari. Izuku did everything he could to encourage his friend, and he saw as days went by Kacchan opened up to them more and more. In his own way, of course. More casual slaps upside their heads, more banter than actual arguing or yelling, helping them with homework and studying. Izuku floated around them all and giggled, happy and warm. He teased them more because of it, admittedly, but in Izuku’s defense it just felt natural going from batting at Kacchan’s spikes and getting maybe an eye roll, to poking at Kaminari or Kirishima’s skin, getting them to shiver and playfully glare around the room suspiciously. It was just too fun, and they had such different reactions. Could you blame him?

Also a first, was Aizawa. Class 1-A’s teacher. 

At first Izuku was admittedly wary of the man’s sour demeanor, but the first time he pulled out a sleeping bag from nowhere and took a nap right on the floor, Izuku simply figured the man was just tired. So Izuku reached out, and Aizawa _listened._

Not obviously, but in small ways. Staying after class with him, thinking out loud for Izuku to bounce conversation off of, gently chiding him when he got out of hand. The moment he was labeled Quirkless was the moment his teachers dismissed him despite his intelligence. Aizawa’s behavior was a breath of fresh air, just like the students. Izuku couldn’t help but bask in the attention he received from both parties. 

Admittedly, Izuku enjoyed playing the occasional prank on some students - not enough to distract them from their studies for too long, school was important after all - but just enough to where he got a reaction. Shifting eyes, raised brows, soft giggles. Harmless, but rewarding.

Todoroki was especially fun. He was so straight faced, and when he actually managed to get the teen to look around the room in bewilderment it classified as a huge win in Izuku’s book. He never got upset, thankfully, just went back to his work with a fond shake of his head as the twelve year old practically cackled. Shinsou was also a common victim of pranks for similar reasons, and it was a full on mini celebration if he managed to get both of them to react in one day. 

A frustration Izuku regularly experienced was his inability to properly move things, and not just because it hindered his pranking possibilities. Upon witnessing a quirk in action from a student, instinct made him impulsively reach for a notebook and a pencil. The action was always pointless. He phased through everything most of the time since his form was so weak. All he could do without difficulty was touch - tapping a desk, tapping the window panes, feeling the ground or sitting on the tops of desks or in chairs wasn’t difficult, and deciding when he wanted to phase through something wasn’t hard either. Only in times of intense discomfort or distress could he actually move things. 

Every time a student left their belongings near his lonely, cold corner, his whole body buzzed with the need to _move_ it. The books and papers felt suffocating being so close, and with no distractions available after school, it only left him with the negative memories of Kacchan and water and too many burns hidden behind stacked books and long sleeves. Unkind words that planted an idea in his head he couldn’t shake off. 

Izuku could touch the books then, to move them even one desk over. But as soon as the source of his stress was dealt with he went back to transparency, to being nothing but whisps. 

He wasn’t sure anyone in the class had noticed before, but after the incident with All Might, Izuku had found scratch marks inside of the window frames, caused by his flailing. 

Izuku wasn’t quite sure that such high discomfort was a fair price to pay to be able to properly interact with the world around him, but it was the only way at the moment. It was similar to his hunt for Kaachan during his three day disappearance. Out of sheer panic - his one source of familiarity and comfort having vanished - Izuku was able to open doors properly to see inside classrooms, old habits of a solid body clashing with his life now. Any other time picking anything up was impossible. Things barely shifted at best. 

But it was okay. He didn’t need to move the EMF to use it, and as long as he had someone to reach out to, it didn’t really matter. He usually had someone to talk to during the school day and a little while after classes ended, and the rest of the time...well, it wasn’t _too_ bad. Nothing he couldn’t handle!

He would stay strong this time. He could do it! It was much better now than it had been before, when he was still confused and begging for an explanation from people who couldn’t see him and getting more and more frustrated until he realized his situation. Now, with people to talk to? Friends and adults and teachers who looked after him? Piece of cake.

That is, until he was faced with the EMF carelessly thrown over a shoulder. 

His whole world. Shattered, twice now. He couldn’t move, couldn’t mentally catch up with what was happening as Kacchan _roared_ and no one stopped him, as Aizawa stepped out and other students raced to the pink haired girl to get the EMF - his anchor, his _voice_ \- repaired. He could only float there, gaping at the spot the blonde kid had chucked the little machine. 

It had never once occurred to him that someone could do that. That someone would _want_ to do that.

Only when he heard Uraraka’s footsteps echo as she ascended up to his floor did he manage to shake himself off, quickly racing to meet her and following her and Kirishima back to the room. 

_Three day suspension,_ Iida said. 

Kacchan. Gone. 

It was the longest three days of his life. His whole world tilted on its axis, his main stability having been ripped from him caused more relapses. Every breath rattled. He was dizzy, it was hard to breathe.

Izuku took in as deep a breath as his deformed lungs allowed and tried to fix it. As best as he could. He searched the halls for as long as he could, and settled himself at Kacchan’s desk when he couldn’t. He tried to push through the tugging feeling in his stomach to go down to a lower or higher floor, fighting through the pain of it until he was sure his organs would be ripped out of him, but it was useless. 

Even so, the distraction - the feeling of him _doing_ something - helped. 

He was wandering the halls when he saw Kacchan, day three, making his way to the Hero Course classroom. 

Izuku could have cried. Even just having the blonde nearby felt so, so much better. He could breathe again, a weight lifting off his shoulders. 

He rushed over, hovering, making the window panes nearby rattle and the unfamiliar eyes in the hallway stared holes into Bakugo’s back, but the blonde didn’t acknowledge the other students, just gave a sharp grin to the frightened faces that stared back at him. Izuku felt too thankful to rein himself in, buzzing and happy and _relieved._

The EMF stayed at the back of the classroom, and Izuku didn’t see the unfamiliar blonde out in the hallway again. He would admit he was relieved about that too. Izuku didn’t want to see him, if he was honest. 

Izuku knew the class wouldn’t let the student do that again. They cared for him lots, just as he cared for them, and he knew they were almost as upset as he was about the whole thing. Hearing their perspective later was heartwarming, with how worried they were for him. 

Izuku wished he could hug every last one of them. His friends. They did so much for him, and Izuku was slowly beginning to realize that _this_ had been his goal all along, not the building. U.A, to Izuku, had been the visible goal, something tangible and in-sight that he could reach out to. But this - having friends, talking to others and having Kacchan at his back again - it was all Izuku had ever wanted. It was the _people_ in the building, Izuku slowly realized as time went on, that he had pushed himself for. 

Yes, it was being a hero. But it was never about himself. It was about recognition, it was about being able to hold his head up high and have someone encourage him, push him forward. 

He had that with this class. He had it with Kacchan. 

If nothing else, he would try his best to keep them safe. He couldn’t die twice, after all, and even if he couldn’t move things, he could _touch_ them, and Izuku could work with that somehow. Maybe even improve upon it. 

Besides. Izuku wasn’t sure what he’d do if he lost them. They were all his anchor by now, even Aizawa, and the thought of losing any of them made the lights flicker as if on the cusp of a power outage.

He would keep them safe.

The thought alone felt freeing, somehow, the pressure in his gut finally releasing and letting him breathe easy for the first time in a long while. The walls didn’t feel as suffocating anymore, less entrapping. Izuku felt like he could faze through the roof and touch the sky. 

He could still save people, even if it wasn’t exactly how he planned it.

**Author's Note:**

> and that’s that! I’m so proud of the bean ;-;
> 
> I cannot wAIT for the next upload, I’m so excited dkbsjsnbsns


End file.
